


darling hold me tightly i'm falling

by zadonis



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, i was watching lotr while i wrote it so it's probably not my best writitng, idk this is probably terrible
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-23
Updated: 2014-10-23
Packaged: 2018-02-22 06:55:23
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,453
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2498723
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zadonis/pseuds/zadonis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>summer is a terrible part of year. the heat, the sweat, it's everything that she hates. but maybe something could happen to help change her longstanding opinion on that. maybe she could find the definition of <i>home</i> with only a little help.</p>
            </blockquote>





	darling hold me tightly i'm falling

**Author's Note:**

> based off [this tumblr post](http://smokeyziam.tumblr.com/post/99912776437/preference-425-one-direction-aus-harry-you)

Summertime was always my least favorite season. The heat, the sweat, the obnoxiousness of boys on the beach – flaunting their toned muscles for all to marvel at. Autumn and winter were more my kind of thing. The chill in the air, warm drinks and coats, and beautiful, pure snow. I guess Mother Nature didn’t quite like me hating on one of her seasons because she found a way to make me fall in love in the hot, hot summer.

*

A week after the cool rain of spring gave way to the humid smog of summer, my roommate threw me out of our shared apartment. Once again, I’d not been able to pay rent, and she was fed up with it, so she booted me out. Over the past few years I’ve lived in four different apartments with three different people. Before that, my family moved around on a yearly basis. I’ve never been in a place long enough to call it home.

As soon as I came home on that particularly dreadful day, I found almost all of my things tucked into three small boxes and one suitcase, waiting outside our front door. I tried to go inside, but my key didn’t work and when I began knocking, my now _ex-_ roommate shouted through the door to tell me that I couldn’t live with her if I couldn’t pay rent. “Come get the rest of your things tomorrow.” And that was that; I was homeless.

The first person I called was my best friend, but her parents were in town, so there was no room for me, not even on her couch. Next, my other closest friend turned me away because her boyfriend was home from a week away on business, and the subsequent five friends that I called all seemed to have some excuse why they couldn’t let me stay with them for a week while I scrounged up some money to rent a place of my own. Being a freelance photographer wasn’t the lucrative job I’d imagined it to be.

Finally I made contact with my friend Lou who I’d met when she hired me to take some photos to promote her and then also as a part time babysitter for her daughter. “Sorry, love. We don’t have room right now and things are really –“ A loud crashing sound came from her end of the call. “Everything’s really busy. I’ve got to go, babe, but I’ll text you someone’s number later who I think might be able to help.” The call ended with the sound of her yelling at someone. She was opening her own beauty shop in a few weeks, so in recent days, it’s been tough to find her in a relaxed mood or at a time when she could actually talk to me with the main part of her attention on me.

I gave up on calling around, trusting that Lou would make good on her promise of getting in touch with someone that could help me. Instead of staying there in the hallway outside my old apartment, I dragged my suitcase and the three boxes of my possessions outside into the muggy summer city air. People gave me odd looks as I struggled along the pavement; surely I looked like someone straight out of a comedy movie.

Eventually I ended up in a café down the block. My boxes were stacked in the chair beside me, my suitcase propped up in the seat across from me (that had been a struggle and it garnered a few more odd looks – one can never have enough of those). I’d just ordered a black coffee since I needed something to wake me up from this horrid nightmare; that’s when my phone vibrated against the tabletop, startling me slightly.

_From: Lou_

_This is my friend harry’s # says he’d luv to help out a friend of a friend_ _J good luck babe_

I dialed the number with my fingers crossed for luck.

As soon as he answered my call with his slow “hullo?” I recognized him as the curly haired brunette with chartreuse eyes and as many tattoos decorating his skin as Tom has. I’d met him on more than one occasion, but I’d never caught his name or number. We’d had a few long conversations at parties when I’d been too drunk to remember what we’d said, but I knew that I’d liked him and his voice had sounded like molasses.

The phone conversation was short. Two hours later, I was moved in to his apartment.

Living with him wasn’t hard; it was a bit odd, though.

For the first few days we moved around each other like we were total strangers, but by the fourth morning, we were past all of that. Of course, that’s mostly because I woke up to find him in my bed.

It wasn’t too early in the morning when it happened, so I wasn’t terribly displeased with the unceremonious wake up call. I didn’t know how long he’d been in bed with me, but as I slowly drifted back to consciousness, I felt the heat radiating off of him (which was saying something in this London summer), and I felt the soft brush of fingertips over the back of my hand.

“What are you doing?” I asked as my eyelids fluttered open. “Why are you in my bed?”

He was warm in a nice way and he smelled like tangerines, so I allowed him to pull me closer. “I just didn’t want to be alone.”

That seemed to be a frequent thing with him.

After a week of living with him, I still hadn’t found enough money to get my own place, but Harry assured me that I could stay with him for as long as I needed to. “Really, I like having someone else around. This apartment is too empty with just me in it.”

So I hung around for a while more, picking up the odd photography jobs when I could, and working part time at a small grocery store three blocks away from Harry’s apartment all the rest of the time. We sort of fell into a pattern over the first two weeks.

Harry would wake me up in the mornings by sliding into the bed, tickling me with his cool fingers, and then jumping out of bed to go make us breakfast. I would shower and get dressed while he did that, and then we’d part ways to go to work. A few hours later, we’d get off work and text each other to see what the other’s plans were. If neither of us had plans, we’d meet back at the apartment with takeout (the best takeout places in the city seemed to be the way home for both of us), and watch movies until one of us fell asleep.

Everything was fine and happy and hot until mid-June.

I was half asleep when I heard his phone ringing through the thin wall that separated our rooms. The sound of it vibrating and chiming the annoying Marimba ringtone was something I’d grown used to over the past few weeks, but usually it wasn’t sounding off at one o’clock in the morning. Through the sound net of sleep, I only caught half of his words masked in the deep shiver of his voice.

A split second passed and I realized it had fallen almost completely silent except for one quiet sound that was also foreign to this apartment in the early morning hours. Crying?

I pushed myself out of the bed, the warmth of the air wrapping around me like a blanket, and I shuffled out of my room and over to Harry’s door. It was shut tight, light seeping out into the dark hallway through the crack at the bottom of his door. With my ear pressed against the wood, I could hear that soft sound, maybe not crying exactly, but it was a sad sound.

“Harry?” My voice was quiet, my knock was louder, but he ignored me. “Harry, can I come in?”

This time I pushed it open a sliver before he could give me an answer. The bedside lamp was on, the TV in the corner of his room was playing mutely, and he was sideways on the bed, wrapped in his thin sheets. I tiptoed over to him, sliding into the bed behind him. The soft sad sounds had stopped, but his body had gone stiff like he was trying to hold it all in.

I stroked down the length of his spine, eliciting a shiver and the slightest whimper from the strong man. “Harry, what was that call about?”

His words were muffled by his pillow, but the words that I understood seemed to form a something along the lines of, “Someone close to me died.”

Before he could say anything else, I was pushing at his shoulder, pulling to make him roll onto his back so I could see his face. “Who was it?” My fingertips smoothed over the pink color of his cheeks, his already puffy eyes, and his straining brow.

“An old friend. He’s been sick for a few years. It was only a matter of time.” Harry’s voice was raspy like it’d been run over sandpaper and I felt the overwhelming desire to curl up against his side and give him all my happiness.

Then I had a better idea.

“Get up. C’mon, I know what to do.” I pushed off the bed, standing at the edge of the mattress to look down at him. He was looking up at me with eyes full of confusion and sadness. “C’mon, I know what I’m doing. Pull on some clothes.”

I left the room for a minute to change into a tank top and shorts instead of the baggy pajamas I’d been in for sleeping.

When I returned to Harry’s room, I found that he’d only made it as far as sitting up on the edge of the bed, looking down at his bare feet with his phone held in one hand and a grey shirt in the other.

“Harry,” Kneeling down in front of him, I reached out to touch his cheek, drawing his gaze to mine. “Come with me.” I took the phone from his hands and sat it back down on the bed, I helped him pull the shirt over his head, and then slip his feet into some shoes.

It wasn’t until we were both sitting in the car down on the street, buckled in, with me behind the wheel that Harry asked where we were going.

The clock on the dashboard flashed 1:21 am. “It’s a surprise.”

It was almost a two hour drive to our destination, but given that it was so early in the morning and there were almost no other cars that passed us by after we got out of the city, I may have possibly driven us a bit faster than necessary. Harry dozed in the passenger seat as I watched the road, navigating us towards the place that I had in mind.

I shook Harry awake when I stopped the car in a spot of the small designated parking area.

“Where are we?” His words were heavy with sleep, a streak of drool glistening on his cheek in the overhead light of the car. “God, what time is it?”

“A few minutes past three.” I whispered, reaching over to push open his door and unbuckle his seatbelt. “Get out.”

He frowned at me. “Did you bring me out here to murder me or something?” I watched patiently as Harry carefully extracted himself from the vehicle. “Where are we?”

I took his hand and pulled him along with me. Closer to the crashing sound of waves on the shore, of birds just beginning to chirp in the morning twilight.

“The beach? You brought me to the beach?” Harry sighed, stepping out into the sand, the smell of sea air assaulting us full force.

“Yes. Do you not like the beach?” I kept my grip on his hand, pulling him out closer to the water. “I know this isn’t exactly the best way to keep your mind off of, uh, off of your friend’s passing. I just figured it might be nice to come to the beach with the fresh air and we can watch the sunrise and um, skinny dip?” I released his hand and danced away towards the waves, the sea breeze cooling off my warm skin. “Please tell me that you’re down for that?” I teased him as I watched his shadowy figure follow me.

“Yeah, that used to be a normal occurrence, actually.” Harry stopped a breath away, so close that I could almost feel his heart beating quickly in his chest. He took a deep breath, leaning closer to me, his mouth mere centimeters away from mine. I sucked in a breath, licked my lips, just barely able to distinguish his features in the dim light of dawn.

“Race you to the water!” Harry whispered excitedly, one second in front of me, and the next he was ducking around me, tugging his shirt over his head, and then shucking off his shorts. I was quick to follow, splashing into the water only seconds behind him, the cold saltwater biting against my bare skin. It was too dark for me to see anything clearly, therefore when Harry abruptly stopped, I crashed into his back, wrapping my arms around his waist for balance.

I was up to my neck in water and I was grateful for that when he turned around, and I could see his skin glowing silver in the light that was beginning to bleed over the horizon; the black water only barely covered Harry’s butterfly tattoo, his sparrows on full display, so I reached up to brush my fingers over the smaller of the two.

For a moment more, we were quiet and still, watching each other in the waxing light, the soft waves kissing our bare skin. Harry was the first to move, his sudden shift causing the air around us to move, breezing over my skin coolly, covering my skin with gooseflesh. He splashed away from me, laughing suddenly and throwing a handful of water at me.

The ensuing battle was one worthy of history books, but no one was around to record it and by the end of it, both of us lay in defeat on the sandy beach. Our hair was soaked, spread out behind our heads like wild lion manes, my chest was heaving from the force of laughter and exertion of the fight. We were both laid out bare in the growing light, now tinging the world that pale blue color, the horizon was a pale, pale dreamsicle orange color, bleeding into blue.

We laid there in the warm, gold sand, watching the tangerine color spread like fire through the cool blue until the tips of my toes – still buried in the sea – were warmed with the first heat of sunlight.

It wasn’t until we were bathed in the warm light and the smell of sunshine,  that I realized that were wholly naked in broad, public daylight.

“Close your eyes.”

Harry, instead, turned to face me, eyes bright green and shot through with strings of gold. “Why?”

I felt my face heat up, “Because I’m going to get my clothes and I don’t want you staring at me. Just clothes your eyes, Harry.”

He grinned, keeping his eyes on my face as he spoke. “If I close my eyes, how will I know that you’re not sneaking a peek at what I’ve got to offer?”

“Maybe I’m not interested in what you have to offer, Styles.” I retorted, throwing a handful of sand on him – well maybe it landed on him, I wasn’t about to look down to check if it did or not.

“Fair enough. Alright, grab my clothes for me, would you?” He turned his head back up to the sky, closed his eyes, and slapped his hand over them for extra measure. I snorted a laugh and slowly stood up, careful to shake sand out of any of the unwanted places.

To be perfectly honest, after I finished dressing and I turned to hand Harry his clothes, I did catch an eyeful, but he was standing up, facing me, and looking entirely immodest there in all his glory with the halo of sunlight framing his whole body.

“Here,” I rolled my eyes, passing his clothes over. “I’ll be back at the car.”

We didn’t mention that little excursion to anyone - not even each other - after our return to London.

*

Lou asked that we come over and watch her daughter while she finished up something at the shop.

“She’ll likely go down for a nap if you suggest it. Or if you pop in a film. Try _Frozen_ if nothing else works.” She was bustling around the house, gathering together the things she’d need. Harry was in the other room, entertaining Lux already.

“Lou, relax. I’m fairly certain that we both know how to take care of her.” I reached out to run a hand over her arm. “You can go, we’ll be fine. By the way, I don’t think I ever thanked you for this, for setting me up at Harry’s. Best thing you’ve ever done for me.” I smiled at her as she paused in her movements to grin at me with her own sparkling eyes.

Her grin was quite smug and she laughed, walking close enough to nudge me with her hip. “Why’s that, babe? Something happen with the two of you?” She winked.

My face burst into flames and I shook my head. “No! No, it’s just been really great. He’s like my best friend now and he doesn’t make me pay rent or anything, and he’s like really nice to take pictures of, Lou, I haven’t taken all that many, but all the ones I’ve taken are actually really beautiful.”

“You’re fawning, darling. Don’t worry, it’s adorable, but I thought I should let you know before you go around telling more people that same story about being ‘just friends’ with our dear Harry.” Lou picked up her bag and hefted it onto her shoulder. “Anyway, I’ll go now. Remember: Naps and frozen. And now shagging Harry anywhere my daughter can see.”

I choked on my own tongue and Louise Teasdale just laughed, kissed my cheek goodbye, and danced out the door.

Let it be said that I had no intent of anything romantic happening between Harry and I, especially not on that day while we were watching little Lux singing and jumping around in front of the TV.

Somehow, though, the little Princess decided that she wanted to watch _Beauty and the Beast_ so Harry put it in and we all three settled down on the sofa to watch it, wrapped in a _Tangled_ blanket, Lux giggling on Harry’s right side while I was squeezed in on his left. Ten minutes in, I was beginning to doze off, slipping into sweet dreams.

It was at the end of the film that I was woken by Harry’s jumping shoulder jostling me awake. Lux was shrieking gleefully, reaching over Harry’s lap to tug at my arm, “Watch this! Watch it!”

Her bright eyes were glued to the TV, to the final scene where the Beast dies, but Belle confesses her love and he’s renewed to his human form. I glance up at Harry; he was already watching me, a half smile twisting his lips.

“Have you two kissed?” Lux’s voice surprised me, breaking my gaze away from Harry’s and down to meet her curious eyes. “Harry’s kind of like Beast, right? And you’re beautiful, just like Belle. Have you kissed?”

While my cheeks felt like they were molten lava, I looked up at Harry’s face to find it similarly cherry red.

“No, Lux, we haven’t.” Harry’s voice was thick as he spoke, shifting around uncomfortably.

“Do it! Do it!” The little three year old began chanting, clapping her hands happily, now completely distracted by the films. “Kiss! Kiss!”  

I swallowed nervously, turned to look from Lux to Harry whose face was still burning just as brightly as mine most likely was as well. “I can’t believe a toddler is trying to bully us into kissing.” I whispered to him as she continued her chants.

Harry laughed, his eyes shimmering strangely. “Yeah, but we might as well, right? Just a peck? She’ll accept that as a kiss, but it doesn’t even really count as one.”

And then he was kissing me, just the lightest of touches on my mouth, so soft and fast that I almost didn’t feel it. Lux cheered loudly as Harry pulled away from me, quickly pushing the blanket off his lap, and leaving the room.

“How’s lunch sound?” He asked in a way that didn’t really seem like a question.

My mouth tingled and I squirmed around, frowning over at the child who’d turned her attention back to the love story on the screen. “Lux, why’d you make us do that?” I asked her quietly.

She smiled and kicked her legs around for a second. “Because you’re in love,” was all she said before deciding to stop speaking for the rest of the day.

*

I’d nearly forgotten just how hot summer could really be.

It was by far the warmest day of the year. I’d woken up in a puddle of my own sweat because Harry didn’t think we needed to turn on the aircon. Ever since waking up, I’d been dripping with it, my skin sticky with it, and even a cold shower hadn’t helped all that much.

“Harry,” I whined as I dragged my feet through the apartment, licking at an ice pop that stained my lips red and filled my mouth with the taste of cherries. “Harry, I’m dying, can we please have some air in here!”

I padded into his room, feeling the sweat glistening on my forehead as I fell onto his empty bed, the sheets cool compared to the air. Before long the sheets were sticking to my skin as I shifted, the air flowing in through his windows wasn’t any cooler than the air already inside, so I called his name again.

He was sitting on the floor across the room, ignoring me and playing on his phone, looking like the heat wasn’t affecting him and his shirtless body.

“Please, Harry.” I begged, barely able to lift my head from the pillow because the temperature was so draining. My eyelids closed and I pushed my face into his citrus scented sheets, the ones that smelled so much like him.

“If it’ll make you stop doing that, I’ll do anything.” He finally groaned and stood up, vanishing from his bedroom.

A second later I felt a cool trickle of air over my damp skin and I sighed, shivering slightly.

“Is that better?” The wonderfully kind man spoke softly as he walked back into the room, stopping right beside his bed and running a hand over my hair. “I realize that it’s hot, but did you maybe think I was trying to get you out of your clothes?”

I twisted around to look at his face, “Don’t be a dick.” I commented, slapping him lightly on the arm. “Go put on some music with that fancy record player you’ve got over there.”

Quiet Ed Sheeran began playing and I smiled, sliding over on his bed to make room for him. I passed out a minute later, “I’m a Mess” sounding like a lullaby while Harry traced the lyrics onto my bare skin with his fingertips, warm breath and touch contrasting with the air around us that’s gone cool. Thankfully, blessedly cool.

*

As the days flew by, I came to realize something.

That word _home_ , the one that I’d never experienced the true definition of, it was suddenly making sense to me. Home isn’t just a place where one has lived for an extended period of time. Home is the place where one feels comfortable, safe, free, and happy, where one’s friends are, where one’s heart lies, where one can be seen as same, and it’s the best place on earth. Sometimes home’s not a place, but a person.

For me, I’ve found my home. In Harry, with him, in the way that he smiles and laughs, his eyes crinkle and shine, dimples appear in his cheeks, and his hair flows around his face. There’s the way that he opens his arms wide in a warm hug, and the excited way that Harry will listen to a story from anyone.

When I woke up later that hot evening, Harry was still beside me, his bare chest rising slowly up and down, with each sleeping breath. His eyes were closed, hair brushed off his forehead, and – god, he was beautiful and he was _home._ I just wanted to curl into his side for the rest of my life, to breathe his citrusy shampoo, and put braids in his hair while he sleeps beside me.

Before I could even reach out to begin to plait a small portion of his hair, his eyelashes fluttered against his cheeks and he was waking up.

“Hold my hand.” He demanded, his voice soft. The sheets were tangled around my legs, his warm body radiating heat towards me and for once in the whole summer, I didn’t really mind the warmth.

I barely let myself breathe as I reached over to touch my cold fingers to the skin beneath his elbow, slowly sliding my fingers down his forearm, over the soft curve of where his wrist became his palm, and then my fingers danced over the dips and rises in his palm before slipping into home: the spots between his fingers.

He sighed, his breath fluttering the hair around my face.

“You smell like mandarin oranges.” He murmured, nuzzling into my neck, our bodies intertwining even more. His tongue darted out to taste my skin, tracing a wet path down my throat that left a glowing bubble of something great in my belly. “You taste like sugar and you feel like satin.” His knuckles rubbed softly up and down my arm. “You’re a goddess. In a hundred years they’ll be telling stories of you in temples dedicated in your name. The goddess of everything good.”

Harry’s lips were bright pink and quirked up, his viridian eyes staring off into space, picturing this distant future. “You’re insane, Harry.” Our eyes met and his lips parted widely into a grin, revealing his dimples.

I’ve never been more in love.

 

 


End file.
